My stomach rumbled a complaint as we left. It’d taken us a while to clear everything up at the house, and as a result I was now feeling more than a little hungry. It was probably too late to loop back into the estate circuit for the day. Bummer.
“Right now, all I want is a big, greasy cheeseburger and a side of fries,” I let the girls know. My stomach readily voiced its agreement.
“Can you even eat that stuff?” Amy asked. “I thought you were all cat food nowadays.”
“I don’t know, but I’m more than willing to try,” I declared. “If that doesn’t hit the spot, you know I’m always down for some more chicken. And you owe me”
“Fine. Let's go to this diner we passed on our way here. We’ll just tell them he’s our service cat,” Kaye said with a smirk as we all climbed back into the car.
Everyone agreed to give it a try. We were all spent from that last little errand and ready to unwind.
But as soon as we stepped into the restaurant, the hostess held up her hand. “You can't bring a cat in here!”
Kaye, not skipping a beat, pulled out the tiniest pinch of her magic dust and blew it in the woman's face. “He’s my service cat. And according to municipal code 9021-0, the law says you have to let him in.”
The hostess smiled and nodded, then guided us to a large booth where I sat between Kaye and Amy, and they sat across from Brewer and Johnson.
“I do feel bad lying about him being a service cat,” Kaye said. “But I don't know how else we could have gotten him in here.”
Amy shrugged. “People do it all the time with far worse excuses. At least Moss is technically a service animal. A community service animal.”
“Ha ha,” I retorted. “You’re a regular Jackie Gleason.”
“Who?” Amy asked with a pretty smile.
We ordered our food. Brewer requested twice as much as the rest of us, while Johnson got to work selecting songs on the tabletop jukebox.
“Just for you, Moss,” he said with a grin, “I’m putting on ‘What’s New Pussycat?’”
“Funny guy,” I bit back, still unhappy with the way he’d talked to my partner earlier.
We relaxed and enjoyed the downtime. At one point, Kaye tried explaining to Brewer that, eventually, all the food was going to catch up to him. Amy also asked Johnson to put on a song she remembered from her grade school days. I asked Kaye if she was going to finish that uneaten portion of meatloaf. It was all the usual happy-go-lucky stuff.
Mostly, I sat back and let the ambient noise wash over me. If the other diners heard me meowing as part of the conversation, we’d attract unwanted attention—and, frankly, we didn’t have the stamina for that.
Evening rush had just started, and the diner filled up quickly. Our waitress flitted back and forth from the kitchen, looking frantic. It had been practically an hour, and our food still hadn’t come. That wasn’t normal, right?
Growing bored and more than a little curious, I started looking around.
Gum under the table. Gross.
A weird stain on the ceiling that resembled a frog. Also gross.
Widening my search, I spotted an abandoned hat under a stool at the counter, and someone had left an old DimeSaver newspaper on the table next to us.
I tapped Amy and motioned toward the paper, which she happily retrieved for me.
Sure, it was really hard for me to read, something about the whole cat thing made focusing difficult, but I was bored and needed something to do.
And so I scanned the page that had been left open, surprised to find it on the classifieds. There, circled at the top was a list for an estate sale. Hmm.
Squinting, I forced my eyes to focus on the words. I wasn't one hundred percent certain, but I could have sworn I remembered the street name Peachtree from one of the estate sales we had gone to.
“Kaye,” I said carefully, pushing the paper towards her. “Do you recognize any of these sales?”
Kaye narrowed her eyes and looked down at the paper. “Actually, I recognize all of them. These are all the sales our guy has hit so far. Every one of them.” She let out a low whistle and slid the paper across to Johnson.
His jaw dropped as he studied the listings. “Well, there it is in black and white.”
“Have you guys not thought of looking in the classifieds before?” I whispered.
“No,” Kaye said with her lips pressed in a tight line. “Well, we checked the classifieds, but not in the paper. We looked online. None of us thought to stop and get a DimeSaver. The website sorts by distance from the current location. It’s constantly changing, but this—”
The waitress came back over, and Brewer requested our food to go.
Amy scooped me into her arms and headed straight for the car. It looked like it would be another quick meal comprised of cold food when we returned to the safe house.
As soon as Kaye made it back to the car, she pulled out her phone and called Mason. His answer, as usual, was not exactly polite.
“Well, what is it, Godwin? You better have something good.”
“Sir,” Kaye said firmly.
“Tell him you figured it out,” I insisted. “I don’t need credit.” I knew she needed a win.
Kaye winked at me in the rear-view mirror. “Moss made a big break in the case.”
Mason laughed over the phone line. “I doubt that, but tell me anyway.”
“Sir? Brewer here. She's right. He noticed that the perp is hitting estate sales that are in the DimeSaver publication. It’s a different crowd that reads this thing. Some of these sales probably don’t even have online listings to go with them.”
“Does anyone actually look at those anymore?” Mason asked.
“Well, obviously Garrison does,” Kaye said with a huff. “He's hitting the estate sales from the DimeSaver in reverse order. Every one he’s hit so far are listed in order. I'd like permission to go to the next one on the list first thing in the morning, so that we can try to intercept him there.”
“Granted, as long as you take everyone with you as backup.” He was quiet for a moment. I’d started to wonder whether he’d already hung up, when he added, “I have to say, good catch, cat.”
That said, he hung up on us. I don’t think he had the word goodbye in his vocabulary.
Johnson looked impressed. “That's high praise coming from him,” he said with a laugh. “He never says anything positive. At least not so long as I’ve known him.”
Brewer bobbed his head in agreement.
Ah, so Mason hated everyone. Not just Kaye. This was potentially useful information. I’d have to file it away for later.
“Okay, gang.” Kaye hit both her hands on the steering wheel to get our attention. She was back in the driver’s seat now. “Let's go home, rest, eat, and formulate a kick-butt plan to take this scumbag down.”
She grinned at me again in the rearview mirror. “Looks like you're going to be our lucky charm.”
Me? Ha, we’d be better off with the cereal.